


Contracting out

by TwelveLeagues



Category: His Dark Materials (TV)
Genre: Coffee, M/M, No sex but Boreal’s thoughts are not family-friendly, Power Play, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:42:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22591954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwelveLeagues/pseuds/TwelveLeagues
Summary: Thomas thinks an extra pair of hands could move the project along faster. Boreal reminds him who sets the pace.
Relationships: Carlo Boreal/Thomas
Comments: 7
Kudos: 18
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	Contracting out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Esteliel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esteliel/gifts).



If there was one thing Boreal liked about this other world, it was the Beans & Buzz coffee shop. It was a tranquil escape from the louder, more chaotic Oxford outside its walls. The staff was reliable. The chatter was low but loud enough that he could conduct business. And the coffee was good. So good, in fact, that he felt little jittering pangs when he was back in his own world for too long.

But there was something pleasant about that. It was oddly intoxicating, to have a memory that ran through his veins and jangled his nerves. And to have the pleasure of knowing he could soothe those nerves any time he chose. All it would take would be a visit to Oxford and a meeting with Thomas.

This visit, however, was not shaping up to be at all soothing.

“Thomas. I see you’ve made a friend.”

Boreal settled himself into the seat across from Thomas, flashing a smile at the stranger occupying the normally empty third seat. The man smiled back, too stupid to notice the way Thomas had tensed in his seat. That was the nice thing about Thomas: Thomas most definitely wasn’t stupid.

But it seemed he needed some ground rules reinforcing.

The waitress, halfway through dropping off another order, paused by his chair. “Usual for you, love?” 

She hadn’t even bothered to pull out her notepad. Boreal had found that the best way to get efficient service in this world was to pay people well. Pay them well enough and, as if by magic, they don’t need to waste time writing down simple instructions. Boreal inclined his head and she scurried away.

“Excellent service here,” he remarked, sitting back in his seat, eyes on his uninvited guest.

“This is, ah, Stephen,” Thomas said. There was a pleasant wheedling in his tone that reminded Boreal of the sounds he made at three in the morning, when he was exhausted and needy and still up for more. “Do you remember I mentioned the— the internet forum? Technically he’s in-house at xPence, but he does a bit of work on the side now and then.”

“A guy from the internet,” Boreal said, looking over the man, who smiled again. 

“We’re actually one of the fastest-growing financial startups in Lon—” the man started to say. Boreal cut him off with a sharp glance. And yes, now Stephen from xPence was nervous. Boreal tended to have that effect on people. 

“He’s very discreet,” Thomas said. He looked over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “ I thought he could help us pick up the pace a bit on our project, you know? Get us there faster?” 

The waitress returned with a tray and placed Boreal’s mug on the table. There was an almond biscotti in a plastic wrapper balanced on the rim of the saucer. The creamy foam on the latte’s surface formed the shape of a delicate white feather. “Thank you, Mona,” he said, reaching into his coat and handing her a folded note. She made a nervous dipping motion that was almost a curtsey and disappeared back behind the counter. Boreal watched her go.

“Nice girl,” he said.

“Yeah,” Thomas was staring at his half-empty mug. “Yeah, really nice.”

“Do you know why she’s so nice to me?” Boreal asked. He snapped the biscotti in two, plunging one half into his coffee. Up his sleeve, his daemon wound herself around his wrist, rubbing the back of her head against his skin in anticipation.

Thomas glanced at the stranger, then at the waitress, then at his coffee. Then he looked back at Boreal. “Because she’s… good at her job?”

“Mona over there knows I happen to like an extra shot of vanilla syrup in my latte,” Boreal continued, as though Thomas hadn’t spoken. “She also knows I don’t like to have to ask for things twice.” He bit into the biscotti. It was dripping with foam and cyanide-sweet but still dense enough to put up some resistance. Thomas waited quietly while Boreal dabbed his mouth with a napkin. He was breathing fast, but Thomas always breathed fast. Thomas could come in here and jitter himself up on caffeine whenever he liked. 

“And Mona isn’t stupid, is she? She knows that just a few things will keep me happy. And when I’m happy, I tip well.”

“Sounds fair enough to me,” the stranger said, leaning forward, his eyes lighting up at the mention of a generous tip. Thomas winced. Hidden up Boreal’s sleeve, the daemon’s tongue flickered out to taste the anxious pheromones in the air. Boreal flashed his warmest smile at the stranger.

“Stephen, wasn’t it?” A nod. “Good. I’m sure Thomas has told you this already, but I pay well and I expect a high standard of service.”

“Oh, he tells me you’re working him hard.” Stephen glanced at Thomas, who was shooting him an urgent look. Apparently Stephen missed it, because he looked back at Boreal, all open enthusiasm. But Boreal didn’t doubt there was a little rat-like cunning in there too. Greed did interesting things to people. 

“Some of the blueprints he’s dug out for you are hard to come by, you know,” Stephen continued. “Thomas is one of the best. Very influential on the message boards.”

“Very influential on the message boards,” Boreal repeated, his eyes on Thomas. He dunked the biscotti in his latte again. “Thomas, do I pay you to spend your free time chatting with strangers about the work you do for me?”

“Steve isn’t a stranger,” Thomas said. His voice was strained. “He’s more like a colleague, really.”

“Thomas has done side projects for me for years,” Stephen put in. “And I’ve helped him out once or twice too. I was thinking… listen, don’t have a go at Thomas for this, okay? He wanted to talk to you before bringing me in. But I was curious. And I can do more for you than give you an extra shot of caramel.”

”Va _nil_ la,” Thomas muttered, his eyes fixed on the table.

Boreal glanced down at his latte. The biscotti had disturbed the surface of the foam, breaking apart the stem of the feather and blurring some of its tendrils. He looked up again. Thomas was avoiding his gaze. “And what was it you were curious about, Stephen?”

Stephen shrugged, looking over his shoulder. “Thomas mentioned something about, uh, a snake?”

There was the faintest pressure against his wrist: The flicker of a tongue and a barely audible hiss. Boreal made a low noise, soothing his daemon. Thomas shot the stranger a glare and Boreal thought about all the ways he might make his displeasure clear when he got Thomas back to his office. 

A long abstinence, he decided. That should remind Thomas to appreciate what he was given. Teach him some patience.

He plunged the second half of the biscotti into the latte, pulled it out and bit it in half. The delicate feather was obliterated, leaving only a mess of foam and dissolving crumbs and the promise of a rich bitterness underneath all that sugar and cream.

No, he corrected himself. A long, forceful screw _followed_ by a long abstinence.

“A snake?” He looked at Stephen, allowing a smile to play on his lips. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“He, ah—” Stephen glanced at Thomas, who wouldn’t look at him. Then back at Boreal, who sipped his latte. “Maybe I misremembered.”

“Or maybe Thomas misspoke,” said Boreal, still smiling.

“I,” Stephen said. He swallowed. Whatever it meant to work for a financial startup, it had apparentlygiven him plenty of undue confidence. “Listen, I can see that you’re a busy man and I can see you’re not looking to, erm, contract out at the moment. So I think I’ll be going if you don’t mind.”

Boreal inclined his head, watching as Stephen stood and pulled on a coat. Thomas was shrinking in his seat, no doubt jealous of Stephen’s unexpected escape opportunity.

“Obviously you don’t need to worry about this getting out. Absolute confidentiality, it’s what I’m known for.” He bit his lip. “We’ll call this a consultation. Free of charge, yeah?”

Boreal watched Stephen button up his coat. He watched him pull on his gloves and straighten his chair and make his polite goodbyes and turn to leave. Then he raised a hand. 

“By the way. I don’t suppose you have a business card?”

Stephen looked down at Thomas, who still wouldn’t meet his eye. Good.

“I’m sorry?”

“A business card. In case I wanted to get in touch.”

Stephen swallowed. He made a quick show of patting his pockets.

“I don’t actually. Really sorry. Must be in another… you know. Sorry about that.”

Boreal waved a dismissive hand. “That’s all right, I’ll track you down if I need you. xPence, wasn’t it?”

“That’s right,” Stephen’s voice sounded most satisfyingly strained.

“And I’m sure Thomas can fill me in on any other details I need. Can’t you, Thomas?”

Thomas winced and nodded. Boreal spread his hands, smiling.

“There we go, now we all know each other. Perhaps you’ll hear from me someday. Very good to meet you, Stephen.”

Stephen nodded. And perhaps he was still trying to meet Thomas’s eyes in the moments before he gave up and left, but that didn’t matter because now Boreal’s attention was fully on Thomas, who had hunched in on himself, drawing his hands up to his mouth.

“Now, now. Sulking isn’t an appealing quality,” Boreal reminded him. He reached out and pulled Thomas’s hands down to the surface of the table. Thomas’ mouth twisted but he let Boreal pull him into place, as he always did sooner or later. “Sit up straight, Thomas.”

“Stephen’s smart,” Thomas said pointedly. “Could have been useful. No need to scare off useful people, is there?”

“But I have a useful person,” Boreal replied. He also had another, less useful, person, which was just one reason why he wasn’t eager to add another employee to his roster. “You’re normally more reliable than this, Thomas. More discreet. That’s what makes you valuable.”

“I thought you paid me for the computer stuff.” There was something sly in Thomas’ tone. A little too familiar, perhaps. Boreal wouldn’t tolerate it from Fra Pavel — from anyone in the Magisterium, for that matter. But then, no one in the Magisterium was quite as valuable as Thomas, who was sitting up a little straighter, his hands still on the table where Boreal had left them. “What was it you said? ‘Everything else is a bonus’?”

Boreal’s daemon wound herself a little tighter around his wrist, her head poking out of his sleeve now that the stranger was gone. Thomas caught sight of her and his lips quirked in a nervous smile. It suited him. And at least Boreal wasn’t the only one who was too trusting.

“It’s only a bonus if it helps me,” Boreal said. He stretched his leg under the table and his dress shoe found the inside of Thomas’ battered Converse. He gave it a nudge with his foot and, gratifyingly, watched Thomas’ cheeks flush a little as he spread his legs. Boreal nodded, sat back and took a sip of his latte. “Now, sit still while I decide what to do with you.”

Thomas gave a short, jerk of a nod, his eyes wider and darker than usual, and Boreal allowed his gaze to drift out of the window. The other world hurtled past in a rush of clouds and sparks and noise, every person surrounded by mechanical miracles they couldn’t begin to appreciate. Every one of them moving too fast to think clearly or even breathe properly.

“It’s important to take a moment to be still and quiet every so often, don’t you agree?” Boreal said, more to himself than to Thomas, who was perfectly still but vibrating with the nervous energy that always seemed to be running through him. 

So. What to do about the stranger? The sensible thing to do would be to tie off the loose end, of course. But Thomas would notice if his friend went quiet, and it would be a shame to have to get rid of Thomas. Not catastrophic, but a shame nevertheless. Boreal sighed heavily. Perhaps it would be useful to have a contact in... what was it he’d said? One of the fastest-growing financial startups in London? Not ideal, but ”financial” was always a promising word. Perhaps it could serve some purpose down the line.

“What are you thinking about?” Thomas’ voice was rough. Boreal looked up at him sharply.

“Don’t you know you’re in trouble?”

Thomas’ tongue flicked out to moisten his lips. “I just can’t tell whether it’s good trouble or bad trouble.”

Boreal laughed at that. He caught Mona’s eye from across the cafe and watched her dart in his direction. “I’ll have an espresso, if you please,” he told her, pressing a second note into her hand. “With a double shot of vanilla.”

“Thanks, love. I’ll have it right out.”

He glanced at Thomas, who was still sitting upright. It was clear from his posture that his legs were still obscenely spread. Clear to Boreal, at least: If Mona had noticed, she’d known better than to let it show. His hands were tense, knotted together on the table and his eyes were on Boreal.

Boreal thought about coffee, rich and sweet and fresh from the machine. The kind you couldn’t get at home. He wondered what would happen if he placed a steaming cup between Thomas’ legs. Would Thomas be able to stay perfectly still? Would he curl inwards like a burned sheet of paper? Would he _scream_?

It was an appealing thought. Probably not one best acted on in Beans & Buzz, though.

“On second thought, I’ll take that to go,” he called across to Mona. The Tesla upholstery could withstand an accidental spill. Perhaps he’d send Thomas the dry-cleaning bill. “And no need to rush it. I have all the time in the worlds.”


End file.
